Unexpected Blessings by Barbara Taylor Bradford Read Free Book Online Page A

regret registered on her face.
    He could not fail to miss that expression, knew at once that she wanted to stay. He saw the desire in her eyes, the look of yearning. He threw back the sheets and got out of bed, walked towards her purposefully, still smiling that beguiling smile of his.
    India thought his blue eyes looked suddenly dangerous, almost predatory. Her stomach lurched and she felt weak; he always managed to make her feel this way at some point or other when they were together…shaking inside…swooning…trembling. She was always his willing partner in anything he wanted to do with her…sexually aroused by a mere glance from him, the touch of his hand.
    As he drew close she thought how impossibly good-looking he was, almost absurdly handsome. It was as if a sculptor had spent endless hours shaping most of his face: straight, patrician nose, broad forehead, high cheekbones, perfectly rounded chin. And elegantly arched brows above those dazzlingly-blue eyes that became soulful with passion, could turn icy cold in anger. He did not have one of those pretty-boy, matinée-idol faces; it was ruggedly handsome, with sharp angles and planes, as if the sculptor had suddenly wanted to finish quickly and had become slapdash.
    His face matched his body. He had a solid torso–broad chest, wide shoulders above slender hips. About five feet eleven, he gave the impression of greater height and strength because of his powerful build. From the moment she had met him she had been aware of his potency and masculinity. No other man had ever affected her the way he did.
    Now he was standing in front of her, the smile still lingering on his mouth. He pulled her into his arms and held her close to his body; the towel and her clothes fell from her hands onto the floor in a heap, and her arms went around his shoulders. And as he bent his head towards her his mouth found hers. He kissed her deeply, passionately, and she felt his erection against her thigh, and for a moment she thought she would succumb, become an all-too-willing partner in his bed for a second time that day. And she clung to him, dissolving.
    But then the brainwashing of years kicked in and she remembered the Harte rules and she knew she had to go to Pennistone Royal. Whatever her physical desires and needs were, no matter how much she wanted this man, her upbringing overrode everything else. A Harte was in trouble, and every other Harte must stand alongside, to defend their rights.
    When they finally stopped their kisses, India gently pushed Dusty away, her hands resting on his chest. For a moment he resisted, and then quite suddenly he stepped back with an abrupt movement, looked into her face, his own questioning.
    ‘You know the rules,’ she murmured. ‘I told you about them ages ago.’
    ‘A Harte always goes to the aid of a Harte in trouble!’ he exclaimed. ‘You don’t have to embellish. I got it then, I get it now.’
    ‘Please don’t be angry.’
    ‘I’m not,’ he snapped, turning away, walking over to the window, where he stood looking out, his stance rigid, his face a mask of discontent.
    Without another word she collected her clothes, went into the bathroom, tidied herself up, slipped into her bra and panties, pulled a black linen dress over her head, then slid her feet into high-heeled, black leather mules.
    When she returned to the bedroom he was still standing at the window looking out, but he had quickly dressed, was wearing his jeans and a white t-shirt.
    At the sound of her heels clicking on the parquet floor he swung to face her. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, and for once he looked shame-faced.
    India walked over to him, touched his cheek gently. ‘I want to stay, to be with you, you know that, and you also know how I feel about you. This sense of duty to the family is something I can’t help.’ She shrugged and finished, ‘I suppose it’s just…ingrained in me.’
    He caught her hand in his, brought it to his mouth, kissed it. ‘I know. And